


Two More Weeks

by idelthoughts



Series: Henry/Abigail Fics [1]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts/pseuds/idelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>How anything so beautiful could come out of this war, Henry would never know.</i>
</p><p>Little Abe picked his family long before they knew they'd been selected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two More Weeks

**Author's Note:**

Abe was a social baby. He was always standing in the little crib, eyes alert and intent on the adults working in and around the hospital. As the only baby currently in their care, and healthy at that, they had him in the staff area so that someone was always near. Everyone who went by chucked him under the chin or took a moment to pick him up and cuddle him, and he kicked his legs with delight every time he was scooped up.

Henry went to fetch a coffee—fourth one today, and it wasn’t even mid-shift—and as he entered the room, he heard Abe’s now-familiar voice. Abe was banging a soft rag doll against the crib bars, intent on his project, while babbling softly to himself.

“Hello, Abraham,” he said.

Abe looked up in surprise at his voice, turning wide blue eyes on him. 

Every time, no matter how many times a day they repeated this pattern, it never failed to make him smile. Abe gurgled and pulled himself up to standing, banging chubby fists on the rails, travelling the length of it for upright support.

For the short weeks he’d been with them, Abe had made remarkable progress. Part of it was the continuous attention from the staff, encouraging his naturally vibrant personality to flourish. Henry was never a paediatrician, but basic development was simple to track, and Abe was miraculously none the worse for his harsh start. 

Henry turned to get his coffee. Abe squealed again, then fell silent. Henry turned back, amused. Abe’s face was serious, but when he had Henry’s attention he smiled again, already the master of sweet babyish flirting. Henry chuckled.

“Oh, is there something you’d like?”

Abe banged his fist, gurgling, and then grinned again, exposing seven bright and shiny baby teeth. 

“All right then. Come here, little one.”

Henry abandoned his waiting cup and scooped Abe from the crib, and Abe wiggled in his grasp, reaching for his face. He got hold of Henry’s nose with a tight grip and Henry had to gently disengage his fingers, sticky and damp with drool. Henry laughed as Abe tried again, undeterred. Henry picked up the rag doll to try and distract him, making it dance, but Abe would have none of it, and instead turned to Henry’s tie. Henry surrendered and offered him the end of it. 

Yes, it was a familiar game, and Henry always caved. Of course, it went straight in Abe’s mouth. Henry bowed to the inevitable drool stains as Abe chewed happily. It tucked into his jacket anyway, no one would see before he could wash it. He tucked a contended Abe against one hip and picked up his coffee with the other. 

“Da da da da da,” Abe babbled around the mouthful of tie. 

Henry absent-mindedly echoed the sound, and Abe looked up at him.

“Da,” Abe said again. It was definitive, as though a proclamation. 

Henry looked down at the little boy on his hip, pausing between sips, then finishing and putting his cup down. He stroked Abe’s soft, downy hair.

Just a sound. A developmental stage, playing with the noises he could make.

“You’ll teach him bad habits. If you keep letting him do that, you’ll never have a dry tie ever again.”

Henry looked up to see Abigail leaning in the doorway, and he smiled in greeting.

“You’re probably right,” he conceded, and looked back at Abe, who had turned to crane his head to see Abigail. “Somehow he fools me into it every time.”

Abe dropped the tie and thrashed, wiggling to get free and reaching his arms to Abigail in a demand to visit her.

“Alright, yes, Abraham. Yes, here you go.”

He deposited Abe into Abigail’s waiting arms, and she pressed her nose to Abe’s and rubbed it, much to his delight. 

Henry smiled, watching them. They had a natural rapport, those two. Amazing how it came so naturally and quickly. The two of them together—every time, it made him remember that first glimpse of them, standing in the falling snow and bitter cold. 

How anything so beautiful could come out of this war, he’d never know.

“Doctor Morgan?”

“Hm?”

He blinked out of his daydream and realized he was staring at them both with a dopey look. Abigail was warm and shy in her answering smile, and Abe’s head was tucked under her chin as he plucked at the front of her uniform. As so often happened these last few weeks in her company, he was caught in her gaze without even meaning it to happen. 

Abe caught hold of her dangling watch pin and tore it free. It tumbled to the ground and Abe watched it with interest as it clattered on the floor.

“Abraham! Naughty,” Abigail chastised, but it was soft and kind. 

Henry hastened to pick it up before Abigail could shift Abe’s weight to make the awkward reach herself. He handed it back to her. 

“Here you are.”

“Thank you, Doctor Morgan.”

“Henry,” he blurted. 

It was automatic, and probably overly familiar, and he hadn’t entirely meant to say it, but the look on her face was worth it, both pleased and shy at once. She took it from him, and her fingers were cool, same as his—this old building never held any heat, they were all of them always cold. 

“Henry,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

A tug at his neck, and he looked down to find Abe had caught hold of his tie again, and with a surprisingly fierce grip worked to reel him in. He shuffled a step forward to save himself a throttling and bumped into the arm Abigail had wrapped around Abe’s little body. He chuckled, mumbling an apology and she shook her head, laughing.

“He has your number, Henry.”

“And yours, I think,” Henry pointed out. “He’s very fond of you.”

“I’m fond of him too.”

She looked into Henry’s eyes as she said it, and he swallowed, his heart thumping. After a second too long indulging in her attention, Henry tore his gaze away and looked to Abe. Gently he tugged his tie free of Abe’s grip and, with a last soft pat on Abe’s head, took a step back.

“I should get back to work,” he said.

Abigail nodded, blinking and looking down. “Yes, of course.”

He turned to go. He hovered in the doorway, waffling with indecision. It was always on the tip of his tongue to invite her to accompany him for a stroll when their shifts were done. So far he’d kept the desire to himself, but it was harder every day. He glanced back to her and she was nuzzling Abe’s cheek, murmuring sweet words to him as Abe giggled at the ticklish feeling. 

Both of them. It was harder to leave both of them with each passing day. 

He turned away with purpose. Two more weeks, and the shipping convoy would arrive to start the removal of medical staff as a part of the withdrawal. Abigail would return to her home, and Abe would find a new home somewhere in England, or perhaps America. He could enjoy their company in the meantime, and then after they left, that would be that.

Two weeks. Barely the blink of an eye. If he could stretch those two weeks into years, or decades, he’d be a happy man.

He tried to set aside the complicated cascade of feelings that thought evoked.

Henry returned to his work in the ward, trying to concentrate on the wounded men and women who still needed his focus.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been interested in babyfic before, but I was so moved after reading Vintageteaparty's [Something New](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2818499) that I just had to see another little moment into Henry's first days with Abe, and why it was that Abigail might have referred to Henry as Abe's father. Abe's already made the decision, it's just up to Henry to catch up.


End file.
